1523: This or That

I've said this before, and I'll almost certainly say it again numerous times, but I'm finding increasingly frequently these days that there's less of a correlation between perceived/agreed "quality" and things that I actually want to spend my time with, whether that's in TV, movies, anime or video games.

This isn't just a simple matter of, say, wanting to play "bad" games, though; as, again, I've said before, it's more to do with the fact that the "highest quality" games (by popular definition) tend to be the ones that play it most safe; the ones that stick to the established rules that will pretty much guarantee them a positive reception, whether that's mechanically or narratively. There's a reason why all "triple-A" games these days have very similar feelings and atmospheres about them — it's because that's what's been proven to work.

And there's nothing wrong with that. Upon reflection, I've come to the conclusion that the things I'm more interested in engaging with are the ones that allow me to bring something new to a conversation rather than regurgitating the same opinions that everyone else is espousing at the same time.

Take Dark Souls II, for example. A great game, no-one is going to deny that, but one for which your average online conversations about tend to run around and around in circles, usually involving one or another of the participants blurting out "Praise the Sun!" as if it's the height of wit. I have nothing to add to that conversation — at least partly because I haven't played Dark Souls II (I didn't like Dark Souls enough to want to invest in the sequel), but I doubt it would be different if I had.

Contrast with say, something I've played that other people haven't. It doesn't necessarily have to be an obscure game, just something that people might have passed up in favour of something like Dark Souls II or Titanfall. Immediately I have an in-road into an interesting conversation. "Have you played The Witch and the Hundred Knight?" is, for me, much more likely to lead into an interesting opportunity for a conversation and an opportunity to educate my conversational partner than "Have you played Titanfall?"

I've seen in happen in discussions with my friends before. A conversation that begins "have you played [game we've all played] before?" generally ends fairly quickly after we've done the requisite "oh, what about the bit where [cool thing happens]?" pleasantries. A conversation where I have the opportunity to tell someone about something cool they might not know about at all, however? That's hugely enjoyable; likewise, when I have the opportunity to learn about a type of game I don't normally consider from my friends, I relish the opportunity, too. I never would have considered the awesome things about Euro Truck Simulator, Crusader Kings 2 or all manner of other games out there had I not been willing to engage in conversation about them. I might not get around to playing some of those games in some cases — or if I do, there's no guarantee I'll like them — but I consider my life to be somewhat richer for knowing that they exist and that yes, there are people out there who love playing them, just as I love playing colourful anime games with big-eyed pretty girls in them.

But I've found this feeling extends somewhat to games that are in my wheelhouse, too; Bravely Default, for example. It's an astonishingly good, PS1-style JRPG, and yet when I think back on the games that I've played in the last few months, I look back much more fondly on the stranger, the more quirky and the more flawed titles rather than that, which is "objectively" (insofar as it is possible to be "objective" about the quality of a video game) better. I gave Bravely Default five stars when I reviewed it over at USgamer and I stand by that score, since it's great; when I come to look back on the most memorable games I played in 2014, however, I have little doubt that other titles are going to be far, far ahead of it.

This is what I like about gaming today, but it's also quite frustrating at times: there's a wealth of interesting, exciting and unusual games out there to play, but still the majority of conversation seems to fixate on the same one or two titles at the same time.

Perhaps I just need to make some new friends.

1518: New Media

I've been contemplating the ways that people "consume" (ugh, I hate that word, but it seems to be the one in use most frequently these days) content online, and trying to determine a way it could be applied to our currently-stalled podcast over at The Squadron of Shame.

The Squadron of Shame SquadCast certainly worked extremely well for the episodes we did it for, but it did often end up being a little more demanding on the editing time than I would have liked, particularly as we're all amateurs making use of not-brilliant equipment that often results in things like background hum, echo and other annoying flaws that are difficult to edit out. Much of my editing time was often spent manually trimming out echoes and funny noises, and in the case of a 2-3 hour episode — which most of our episodes tended to be — it would take the majority of the day to do this.

One of the things I'm wondering right now is how relevant the podcast format still is. Obviously I know that there's enough of a market for sites like Giant Bomb to keep making one every week, and for established podcasting personalities like Garnett Lee to be able to start a new show and have people follow him to see what he's up to. But I'm also conscious of the rise of alternative means of "consuming" (blech) content in the last couple of years, with YouTube being one particularly disruptive influence, and live broadcasts such as Twitch streaming and Google Hangouts being another.

Awareness of these alternative forms of media has made me ponder whether the standard podcast format is absolutely the best possible thing for the SquadCast going forward, or whether it's worth contemplating an alternative means of presentation (with an accompanying means of archiving/downloading where necessary.)

The SquadCast has always been a "book group" style of discussion surrounding a game or gaming-related topic, and it's worked well for us in the past. But gaming is also an inherently visual medium, which makes me wonder whether some form of video presentation might be worth experimenting with, perhaps combined with live broadcasting.

Another reason I bring this up is that Skype, which we have previously used to talk to one another and record the discussions we have, has become a largely unworkable mess ever since Microsoft bought it, making it impossible for me to "archive" the complete conversation just in case someone's individual recording fails to work properly. I haven't needed this facility on many occasions, but on the couple where someone's recording was destroyed by Audacity's frequent crashes, having that backup facility was a godsend. With the way Skype works now, though — you can't run it in more than one user account on a Mac at once, which is what I used to do — working this way is impossible without an unnecessarily convoluted setup involving more than one computer.

What I've been pondering is making use of something like Google Hangouts, which allows for a number of features that would seem ideal for a discussion about games. It allows participants to converse via either audio or video chat, and it also allows for the footage of the participants to be intercut with other things such as videos from YouTube and the like. For example, while discussing a particularly interesting scene in a game, making use of Google Hangouts would allow you to find that scene on YouTube and then broadcast it to the people watching the Hangout, which strikes me as an eminently good idea. Presumably it would also allow for playing footage while the conversation continues over the top, which is a little more interesting than just gazing at a bunch of talking heads for a few hours.

Google Hangouts can also be easily archived to YouTube, and then one of the many YouTube-to-MP3 converters out there can be used to archive an offline version of the discussion's audio, which can subsequently be released as a standard podcast for those who wish to continue listening in that way. It'll be rawer due to the lack of editing and its inherently live nature, but I've often felt when I edit a show that I was making the job a lot more difficult and time-consuming than it really needed to be.

Anyway. I'm just thinking out loud here. Interested to know your thoughts, though, particularly if you've been either a listener or a participant in the SquadCast at any point in the past. (Those who are neither, you can educate yourself thanks to our archives here.)

1510: Hidden Ninpo

Been playing a bunch more Senran Kagura Burst over the last few days, and the more I play, the more I like it.

This is partly because of the interesting, well-told story that actually bothers to explore its characters in some degree of depth thanks to some lengthy visual novel sequences, but that's not what I wanted to talk about today. No, instead, today I wanted to talk a little about how what initially appears to be a simple, straightforward brawler grows more and more interesting to play as you progress.

Senran Kagura Burst gives you five playable characters on each of the two "sides" of the story, plus some secret characters, I believe — haven't unlocked them yet, but there's a conspicuous question mark on the character select screen. Initially, these characters all have their own distinct characteristics — from the Hanzou path, Asuka has speedy attacks, Ikaruga has a long reach, Yagyuu hits hard, Katsuragi fights without weapons and Hibari hits lots of times — but they all "handle" fairly similarly. In other words, at the outset of the game you can pretty much button mash and get some good results.

Thanks to an RPG-style levelling system, however, the characters evolve as you play them in several ways. At various level boundaries, they unlock new "arts", usually in the form of extending their usual combos, but as you play levels in one of two modes — Yang, which is "normal", for want of a better term, and Yin (or "Frantic"), which sees the girls stripping off all their clothes (and defense) in exchange for a massive damage boost — you build up power in your Yang and Yin stats. Separately from your experience level, you unlock new Yin and Yang abilities as these statistics build up, until eventually fighting in Yin and Yang are as different as… well, you know. Playing a level in Yang sees you chaining together massive combos and getting ridiculous hit counts — potentially well into the thousands if you're good at chaining knockouts together — while playing in Yin sees you steaming through, obliterating everything in your path. I finished the first boss level in the game in two seconds earlier thanks to a level 30 Asuka with a fully buffed up Yin stat.

The game doesn't start with these two "modes" feeling different, however; no, it takes some time until the differences start to take effect — initially the only difference is in what the girls are wearing as you fight. But as you gain levels and increase the Yin and Yang stats, more and more depth is gradually added to the game until you're playing something a lot more technical and interesting than what initially appeared to be a fun but fairly mindless button-basher.

This becomes particularly apparent as you work on several characters at once — the story often forces you to use specific characters the first time you take on a level, and so you'll get some experience with all of them while undoubtedly finding favourites. Again, initially, all the characters feel very similar outside of their obvious differences in weaponry, but again, over time, they start to become more and more distinct. Asuka, for example, becomes a whirling death machine able to hit lots of enemies at the same time with a spinning attack, then launch them all into the air. Katsuragi, meanwhile, actually changes significantly from her low-level incarnation; rather than being able to launch enemies simply by hammering the Fast Attack button and unleashing a combo, Katsuragi begins requiring Heavy Attacks to be in the mix in order to successfully launch them. This forces you to play Katsuragi noticeably differently from the other characters — and I'm sure the others are different again, and I'll come to discover their own quirks over time.

The pace at which all this happens is really good, too; you start getting additional techniques and new moves just as hammering "Y" repeatedly starts to get a little tiresome and you start wondering whether there's anything more to it. It's not long after that your rate of pressing the attack buttons slows down from the frantic pace it almost certainly begins at, and you start actually counting how many attacks you get in in order to use the moves you want to. In a funny way, it reminds me a bit of Bayonetta, which I still regard as the benchmark of 3D action games — there was never a moment in Bayonetta where I didn't feel in control of the character, and that, likewise, gradually grew in complexity (and, consequently, in how rewarding it was to play) over time. Bayonetta is probably a superior game with more variety than Senran Kagura, but to get a similar vibe from it is testament to the latter's satisfying brawling.

Anyway, if you've been hesitating over picking this up — perhaps you're an American holding out for a possible physical release? — then, well, I'd strongly advise you to grab a copy if you enjoy a good brawler. And then help me bug Xseed to bring the Vita game to the West, too.

1504: Life and Hometown

As promised (well, suggested) I booted up Senran Kagura Burst for the first time last night, and I've felt a strong urge to keep going back over the course of today. The reason? It's one hell of a lot of fun. Who'd have thought it?

The reason I like it so much is not, as you might conjecture, all the bouncing boobies (though I won't lie, the various members of the main cast all push my buttons in various different ways — why deny it?) but rather the fact it plays like a modern-day brawler. Streets of Rage at turbo speed, if you will; the only thing that's really missing to make it into a truly authentic arcade brawler is a cooperative two-player mode, which appears to be sadly lacking.

Still, this isn't a massive omission on a handheld game, and particularly not when there's seemingly so much to work your way through. There are two hefty stories to play through, each with five different playable characters, and when you've completed each level you can go back and replay it with any of the other characters in order to earn rankings and experience points for them. And then you can play it with each character in "Frenzy" mode, whereby they do 750% more damage but take considerably more damage on account of the fact that all their clothes have fallen off and they're fighting in their swimsuits. In other words, you can play each level up to ten times altogether — five for each character normally, then again with each of them in Frenzy mode — and have an enjoyable experience each time.

Like the classic brawlers of yore, Senran Kagura's controls are simple and straightforward, but can lead to satisfyingly ridiculous combos. Senran Kagura's main contributions to the ridiculousness are the "Aerial Rave" skill, whereby landing a combo on enemies makes a green circle appear, and tapping the A button at this point launches them into the air for further punishment, and the Hidden Ninja Art attacks, each of which are themed around an animal and cause varying amounts of disaster for the enemies around or in front of you depending on which one you unleash.

There's some lightweight RPG mechanics in there, too; completing levels earns you experience points, which levels the girls up, and new Hidden Ninja Arts become available every so often. Moreover, "Yin" and "Yang" bars build up depending on how many levels you've played in Normal or Frenzy mode, with various benefits (and potential shortcomings, particularly in the case of Yang) becoming available to you as these bars increase. It looks, then, as if the game will gradually grow in complexity as it progresses — though from the look of things, it will still remain pleasantly accessible.

I haven't got that far into the game's story yet — I've been having too much fun challenging the first few levels with all the characters — but so far the cast seems to be a loveable bunch, each with their own distinct personalities. Many of them are anime trope-tacular, of course, but I have no problem with this whatsoever; tropes become popular for a reason, after all — and I'm particularly intrigued to see how their personal stories unfold over the course of the game, as I know that those who particularly enjoy the series see the character development as a real highlight of the whole thing.

Further thoughts to follow, I'm sure; for now, I'm off to kick some Shinobi ass!

1503: Please Insert Gear 2

I finished the first disc of Metal Gear Solid today. I miss disc swaps; as inconvenient as some people find them, many games used them as an important part of their drama — look at how Final Fantasy VII's first disc ended, for example, or indeed how Metal Gear Solid closes off its first disc.

More than that, though, I'm impressed with how well Metal Gear Solid is holding up. I mean, sure, there are some aspects that have dated worse than others — the painful lack of motion capture and facial animation in the cutscenes being the most glaring issue, and the somewhat clunky controls being another — but as an interactive experience, its limited technology certainly doesn't hold it back from being a thrilling, compelling and exciting experience just as worth having today as it was back when it first came out. (And I maintain that the original is just… better, somehow, than the technically superior The Twin Snakes for GameCube; the revamped music and voice acting in that version just didn't feel quite right, somehow)

I'm also quite impressed with how much of the game I've remembered since its original release. I don't think I've beaten it that many times over the years, but I still remember all the peculiar little quirks as if it was only yesterday I played — changing the controller port for the Psycho Mantis battle; how to spot Meryl when she's in disguise; how to get Meryl to be in her pants when you reunite with her; how to get out of prison. (Actually, I must confess to messing the latter part up — I remembered the whole "ketchup" thing, but cocked up knocking the guard out and ended up being released by the Ninja, which I didn't even know was a possibility. You learn something new every day.)

Snake remains an awesome hero, too; convincingly badass, yet vulnerable and human at the strangest of times. He's at his most interesting when interacting with the diverse other members of the cast; whether it's struggling to show his feelings for Meryl or trying to work out the best approach to dealing with Otacon, who is terrified to the point of literally pissing himself one moment; overconfident and cocksure the next; emotional and irrational the next.

The game still packs a surprising amount of emotional punch, too, even with its primitive technology, and it's at least partly down to Kojima's strong direction of the game's cutscenes. Say what you will about the series and its lengthy storytelling sequences between bouts of crouching in the dark (and, of course, "Snake, SNAKE, SNAAAAAKE!", which I have heard a good few times today during some challenging sequences I didn't remember quite so well) — Kojima knows how to make a good movie with some interactive elements, and I think it's a fairly well established fact by now that I have absolutely no problem with games that prioritise storytelling over what we might traditionally call "gameplay". (I'm particularly looking forward to revisiting Metal Gear Solid 2's infamous 20-minute cutscene towards its conclusion.)

Anyway. Onward to disc 2 tomorrow, and a confrontation with Metal Gear, along with some other parts I've no doubt forgotten. For now, time for bed, possibly with some Senran Kagura Burst before sleepytime… Oh yes.

1501: A Hind D

I've finally acquired all of the mainline Metal Gear Solid games and have decided to play them through. To date, I've only ever played the first two (the first two Metal Gear Solids, not the first two Metal Gears), though I have had a copy of Snake Eater on my shelf for years now that I am yet to boot up. (Despite this, I picked up a copy of the HD collection for PS3. Why not, eh?)

Despite the fact that I've only ever played the first two, I have always thought of the series very fondly. I recall playing the original PS1 game to absolute death when it first came out since it was far and away one of the most gobsmackingly impressive console games around at the time.

Today, it's not looking quite so impressive thanks to its 320×200 resolution, limited colour palette (so much dithering!) and complete lack of facial animations, but Hideo Kojima's artistic intentions still clearly shine through thanks to excellent, movie-like direction of the cutscenes and high production values for music and voice work. In terms of sound, at least, the original game is very much on a par with modern games, with spectacular voice acting and a stirring, memorable score accompanying the action.

I think one of the reasons I enjoy the Metal Gear Solid games I have as much as I do is because they quickly subvert expectations. Obviously I don't have the same expectations of them as I did back when I first played them, but I still remember how enjoyable it was to see the game's setting and narrative evolve from gritty, manly super-soldier preventing nuclear war to comic-book style character-driven tale with a series of ridiculously overexaggerated villains. The gritty, manly super-soldier preventing nuclear war story is still there, of course, but with all the other stuff going on atop it, it becomes far more interesting than your average Call of Duty or whatever.

This is, in part, Kojima's craft. He can blend things together remarkably well. He can blend the realistic and the fantastic; the mundane and the ridiculous. The first game is relatively tame compared to what happens in some of the later installments — even the second one — but it's still not afraid to let its hair down every so often with villains like Psycho Mantis, who requires you to plug your controller into the other slot so he can't read your mind, and Vulcan Raven, who manages to come off worse in a fight against Snake even when attacking him with a tank.

Divisive though it may be, I'm also a fan of how Kojima tells his stories. My friend Mark described the Metal Gear Solid games as one part tactical stealth action game, one part movie and one part radio drama, and it absolutely is true. The stealth action stuff is solid, enjoyable and challenging; the movie is well directed and as enjoyable as anything I've seen on the big screen, despite only starring computer-generated characters; and the radio drama that unfolds any time you whip out your Codec to chew the fat with any of Snake's colourful cast of allies is well acted and always worth sitting through. I feel a bit sorry for those who feel the need to skip cutscenes and dialogue; they're missing out on a significant part of the Metal Gear Solid experience.

Anyway. This time around I'm hoping to make it all the way through to the end of 4. I've renewed my interest in the series somewhat since looking a little into the new games Ground Zeroes and The Phantom Pain, you see, and it would be nice to be up to date with what's going on before I play those. Plus everyone always says Metal Gear Solid 3 is amazing, so I should probably see what they're all banging on about at some point, huh?

1499: Per. So. Na

So, Atlus confirmed today that the four new Persona games — Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth for 3DS, Persona 4 Arena Ultimax for PS3 and 360, Persona 4: Dancing All Night for PlayStation Vita and Persona 5 for PlayStation 3 — are coming to English-speaking territories. And there was, as they say, much rejoicing.

My love of the Persona series is well-documented on these very pages, but I'm particularly pleased the three spinoff titles are all making it West. I'm especially excited about Dancing All Night — as evidenced by yesterday's post, music games are very much my jam, and Dancing All Night is looking very lovely indeed. I can take or leave Persona 4 Arena Ultimax for now — I'm still yet to beat the first one, though I will get to it eventually — and Persona Q intimidates me a little as someone who is still yet to play an Etrian Odyssey game. But all of them are appealing in one way or another; all of them are games I will play and love.

And then there's Persona 5, which we know next to nothing about so far. I'm really looking forward to this. The Persona team's previous game on consoles was Catherine, which turned out to be seriously great — not to mention a hefty challenge — and set a certain level of expectation for what a Persona 5 might look like. I'm thinking cel-shaded visuals interspersed with anime cutscenes, and that same sense of exquisite stylishness that has permeated the series since at least its third installment.

As for the others, I would worry that they're milking Persona 4 dry were it not for the fact that all the spinoff games featuring the Investigation Team and pals are very different beasts. Of the upcoming titles, only Persona 4 Arena Ultimax is remotely similar to a Persona 4 game we've already had — and given that game's surprisingly visual novel-ish nature, I don't mind all that much, since it's the story that's the important thing, rather than the fighting. (Although competitive players might disagree.)

As for Persona Q and Dancing All Night, though? I can't wait to give them a try — particularly, as I say, the latter. Rise was adorable in Persona 4, and the opportunity to spend another game in her company as she does what she does best — singing and dancing in an indefatigably cheerful manner — is not something to be passed up, particularly with the prospect of other Persona 4 stars putting in an appearance, too. Yu, Persona 4's original protagonist, looks particularly fetching strutting his stuff — I very much like how he's taken on a lot more of his own personality since the original game thanks to spinoff titles and the official anime adaptation.

But sadly we have a fair while to wait before we can get our hands on them. Persona Q and Ultimax aren't showing up until autumn of this year, and Dancing All Night and Persona 5 are next year. Still, the fact they're not just around the corner is probably a good thing — gives me time to clear my backlog a bit, not to mention review the several games I've got on my plate at the moment!

1498: Diva

I've been playing a bit of Hatsune Miku: Project Diva F on PS3 recently. Every time I play it, I'm reminded that I really love rhythm games, regardless of whether or not they have "famous" music in them. (More hardcore Miku fans than I would probably be able to do a better job of explaining how each and every one of the tracks in Project Diva F is famous, but I'm happy just knowing "the one from Nyancat", "the one from Leekspin" and "the one from Black Rock Shooter" for the moment.)

It helps, of course, that Project Diva F is an excellent rhythm game. It doesn't do anything too complicated with its gameplay — it's just tapping or occasionally holding buttons to the beat, sometimes breaking for some analogue stick-flicking rather than button-pressing — but has a good scoring system that rewards you in a number of different ways: overall accuracy, successfully completing high-pressure "technical zone" sequences and unlocking the "true" end to a track by completing another special bonus zone. You can then bump up the challenge factor through a nifty risk/reward mechanic whereby it becomes easier to fail a track, but in exchange you get considerably more "Diva Points" to spend on goodies if you successfully make it all the way through.

I tend to judge music games based on how "in the zone" they make me feel. A good music game makes you feel at one with the rhythms in its tracks, and you feel like the buttons you're tapping have a real connection to the song. This doesn't necessarily mean just tapping out the beat — I recall vividly explaining to my friend Woody way back when that the various button-presses in Vib Ribbon didn't necessarily follow the vocal lines or the drum beat, but were in fact more like what you'd do if you were drumming your fingers to the song, and the note patterns in Project Diva F are much the same way. Sometimes you're tapping out the rhythm that Miku and friends are singing; others, you're following the guitar line, or the drums, or something else that is prominent in the soundtrack. Learning each track is a matter of familiarising yourself with what you're "playing" at any given moment, and how it fits in with the song as a whole.

In short, Project Diva F gets me feeling very much "in the zone" while I'm playing. It's one of those music games that's hypnotic to play, though the fact that notes come from all directions means that you're not left with that strange "the whole room is scrolling!" feeling that I always got from lengthy Guitar Hero or Rock Band sessions. The background videos are a lot of fun, too, featuring Miku and her friends getting up to various misadventures just like real pop stars in real music videos.

And the customisation. Man. I have a thing for playing dress-up in video games, and Project Diva F does not disappoint in this regard at all. Each of the game's characters has a hefty number of different costumes to unlock, with various accessories on top of that. Then you can decorate each of their rooms, and unlock amusing, silly cutscenes when they interact with the items. Some of the items even have a practical function — setting Miku's alarm clock puts her to sleep, for example, and she'll wake herself (and you) up when the timer expires. Arguably not all that useful on a TV-attached console such as the PS3, but a nice touch — and I can see it being cool on the Vita version we're supposedly getting in the West relatively soon.

I haven't even touched the frankly terrifying Edit Mode yet, in which you can cut your own music videos and set up your own playable note patterns to your own music. If I jump down that particular rabbit-hole, I can see myself getting thoroughly lost, so I've held off for now. But I'm sure I'll investigate at some point in the near future.

If you're a fan of music games as I am, be sure to check it out; don't worry that you might not know many of the songs — you'll pick them up by the umpteenth time you play them to perfect your score!

1492: The Alchemist of Arland, Reprise

I've been enjoying Atelier Rorona for the past few days, so I thought I'd talk a little about what I like about it. I know that Atelier Rorona isn't the best of the three …of Arland games on PS3, but my completionist nature (from a narrative perspective, anyway) insists that I play it thoroughly first before moving on to the supposedly superior Atelier Totori and Atelier Meruru. And while I was originally intending to wait for the revamped version of Atelier Rorona before I played it, there's still no confirmation one way or the other of whether it's coming to the West. I'll be surprised if it doesn't, but either way, I decided I couldn't wait any longer. I started playing it a while back — June of last year, in fact — but only got about ten hours in due to a combination of Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory, Time and Eternity and Tales of Xillia. Now, no more interruptions!

So what the hell is Atelier Rorona and why should you care? Well, it's… I guess it's an RPG? It certainly has all the trappings of a typical RPG — hit points, experience points, levels, skills — but it's not at all your usual "band of plucky heroes saves the world" affair. No, instead it's a rather smaller-scale affair in which you play a young girl called Rorona who is tasked with saving the alchemy workshop in which she works by fulfilling a series of increasingly unreasonable requests. These all come from Meredith Alcock, the head of the Ministry of Arland, who is keen to stamp out alchemy in favour of industrialisation for his own, presumably greedy reasons. Failure to meet the requirements of the assignments brings your game to a premature end; successfully completing them means you're immediately presented with another one until you reach the conclusion of the game.

Amid all these assignments are numerous visual novel-style narrative paths that are woven throughout the course of the game, and which you can advance by improving your relationships with various characters by performing additional tasks for them. There are numerous endings to the game, and it's designed to be replayed several times. I haven't yet decided if I'm going to attempt to play as much of Rorona as possible before moving on to Totori, or if I'm going to cycle around Rorona, Totori and Meruru several times in sequence. Either way, I'm presently enjoying the experience enough to want to try and see as many of the endings as possible.

It's not necessarily the narrative that is the biggest draw in Atelier Rorona though. No, this being a Gust game, the emphasis is very much on an in-depth crafting system, which is excellent yet enjoyably distinct from that seen in Atelier's stablemate Ar Tonelico. In Ar Tonelico, crafting was a means of seeing various interactions between the characters and getting to know them a little better — plus getting some great items out of the experience in the process. In Atelier, meanwhile, the crafting system is the core of the game: it's the way you complete most of the assignments in the game, and the solution to most of the quests you're presented with to earn money or improve your relationship with other characters.

The reason it's so interesting is because it's a lot deeper than simpler systems seen in other games that require you to do nothing more than combine specific items to get a brand new item. In Atelier Rorona, you have to take the quality of your ingredients into account — and things like organic ingredients spoil over time — as well as the various "traits" they have attached to them. In many cases, these are nothing more than flavour — if you make a metal ingot that is "stinky" it doesn't affect the stats of any items you subsequently create using it, for example — but in others you can do things like boost the base effect of a healing or attack item, improve the stats on equipment and improve its quality beyond that which its component items would normally provide.

There's a lot of number-crunching involved to optimise your alchemy, and you can't always count on having perfect ingredients available, so sometimes you'll have to improvise somewhat. The ability to do this is reflected by some ingredient items for recipes being a generic category rather than a specific item. For example, when making a "Spring Cup" item that contains liquid, the exact liquid you put in there is up to you — it could be water, it could be tree sap, or something altogether more unpleasant. The items you choose to put in there will affect the final quality of the item, and experimentation is often very rewarding.

Key to doing well in Atelier Rorona is managing your time effectively, because everything you do causes the in-game clock to tick away, counting down towards each new deadline. Whether you're crafting something or going out into the field to gather ingredients and fight monsters, everything takes time, so if you want to optimise how you're playing the game — which is presumably important when going for some of the endings — you'll need to plan your time well. Probably better than I'm doing right now, but I'm fine with just seeing which ending I get first time, then specifically attempting to pursue one or more of the others on a subsequent playthrough.

If the other two …of Arland games are as enjoyable as Atelier Rorona I can see myself spending a hefty amount of time on this series. It helps that Rorona has an amazing soundtrack — I shouldn't expect anything less from Gust after Ar Tonelico's magnificence in that regard — but the gameplay is rock-solid too. I'm looking forward to crafting a whole bunch more pies, bombs and mysterious liquids over the next few weeks, and I don't doubt I'll report further on my progress as I continue.

1490: Bros Before Titans

As I mentioned yesterday, I've been playing a bunch of Atelier Rorona this weekend, but tonight I decided to play through something a few people have been bugging me to try: Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons. And it proved to be the perfect antidote to the endless Titanfall chatter there's been on social media all weekend.

For those unfamiliar, Brothers, as I shall refer to it hereafter, is a game about the titular brothers going on a quest to find the cure for their sick father. It sells itself as a "single-player cooperative game" and that's not actually a bad description in mechanical terms — using both thumbsticks on a controller, you control both brothers, and use the triggers to make each of them interact with things. Big Brother is stronger, taller and older; Little Brother is more agile, smaller and more childish. Most of the game's puzzles revolve around working out which brother is the most appropriate one to use in a situation, and whether or not they need to work together, which they usually do.

But mechanics are probably the least interesting thing about Brothers. Where the game really shines is in telling a compact, emotional story whose characters are introduced, undergo some serious, well-paced growth and bring the story to a fitting conclusion… all without saying a word. Or not a word in English, anyway; I'm not entirely sure if the language the characters speak in the game is real or just a Simlish-style made up language, but it doesn't matter — the meaning is got across through a combination of context, body language, facial expressions plus other presentational elements such as music. The game packs a seriously powerful emotional punch by slowly building up these characters and giving you a chance to get to know them before throwing them into harrowing situations that will tax the emotional constitution of even the most hard-hearted soul.

I cried three times over the course of the game, but as we've probably established in a number of posts over the last 1,490 days, I am somewhat susceptible to this sort of thing, not to mention a lot more willing to allow my emotions to leak out through my eyes if something affects me strongly. I'm not actually sure if game makers have genuinely got better at emotional storytelling over the past years, whether I've become more susceptible to emotional manipulation, or something in between. It doesn't really matter too much, I suppose; the fact that a game like Brothers can have a legitimately emotional impact is something that's worth celebrating and praising in itself — it doesn't necessarily need to be compared to anything else.

I'm being deliberately vague about details of the plot here because I believe that if you're reading this and have access to some sort of gaming device on which you can play Brothers, you should definitely give it a go. It's a short game — it took me just under 3 hours to get all the way through — and not a particularly challenging one either, but it's not about challenging the player (in mechanical terms, anyway — it's definitely emotionally challenging). Rather, it's about telling an interesting, compelling story in a somewhat unconventional and interactive way. It's the kind of story that might work as an animated movie, but which has a whole lot more power added to it by virtue of the fact that you're the one in control.

Grab a copy for PC here. And if you're planning on playing it, I recommend not reading up on it at all beforehand. It's an experience best had with beginner's mind, and one best had in a single sitting. So set aside a few hours, grab a controller, turn out the lights and enjoy a fantastic story.